


in control of what i do (and i love the way you move)

by countingto15



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: A body shot perhaps, Alex speaking Spanish much to Henry’s delight, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Alex, M/M, New Years party, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Red Room, Smut, Top Henry, some cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23419750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countingto15/pseuds/countingto15
Summary: “You’ve been teasing me all night,” Henry says, one hand creeping down Alex’s side. “Dancing up against me.”“That’s just how I move,corazón.” Henry’s hand reaches Alex’s hip, and Alex narrows his eyes mischievously. “It’s not all about you.”Henry’s fingers tighten around Alex’s hip. “Don’t test me,” he whispers.Biting his lip, Alex curls a strand of Henry’s hair around his finger.“Hmm. Testing you’s kind of fun, though.”
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 18
Kudos: 346





	in control of what i do (and i love the way you move)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Cool" by Dua Lipa

Alex dancing is just one of those things, those things that open up the most imaginative corners of Henry’s mind. He’d learned that exactly one year ago, at a party just like this one, except at that time he’d thought the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it was what was making Alex so hard to resist.

He was wrong. The fact that he now _can_ do something about it and yet, inexplicably, is not, makes it even harder. And it makes other things hard when Alex deliberately backs up into him and proceeds to flash him a smile with the innocence of a little kid bumping into a stranger. So, Henry makes a decision.

He gives in a little, places one hand on Alex’s waist—the other occupied with a flute of champagne—and follows Alex’s movements for a moment before letting himself sink away into the crowd and then leaving the room altogether, not so abruptly as to immediately alert Alex, but just inconspicuously enough that Alex should eventually take note of his absence and come looking. A quick word with Amy and a trip to the Queens’ Bedroom later, Henry is sitting on a couch in the dimly-lit room Alex once pushed him up against a portrait of Alexander Hamilton to make out with him vigorously in. He has his suit jacket slung over his shoulder and his drink sitting on a small table nearby. He checks his phone two, three times. Checks the time. Nearly twenty minutes have gone by, and he starts to consider how long he should wait, before a text finally pops up on his screen.

**where are u?**

He replies after a minute.

**Red Room.**

There’s a knock on the door not long after.

“Come in,” Henry answers almost indifferently.

“Henry?” Alex asks, poking his head in. Music floods in from the East Room just down the hall. Alex enters and walks towards him. “Are you okay, baby? Are you—” His eyes shift to Henry’s rolled up sleeves.

“Yes?”

“Yes, you’re okay, or…”

“I meant yes, finish your sentence,” Henry answers.

“What are you doing here? And why’s Amy outside?”

Henry gets up and closes the door behind Alex.

“Well, to answer your second question, to keep watch,” he says. Then, pushing Alex up against the door, one hand above Alex’s head, he adds, “And I was waiting for you.”

“What did you want me for?” Alex asks in a low voice, clearly catching on.  
“For this.” He brings his lips right up to Alex’s, and Alex closes his eyes, leaning in. Just as they’re about to touch, Henry pulls away. “But you’re not getting it yet.”

“That,” Alex says, “is not fucking fair. Come here.” He hooks his fingers around one of Henry’s arms and pulls him close.

“You’ve been teasing me all night,” Henry says, one hand creeping down Alex’s side. “Dancing up against me.”

“That’s just how I move, _corazón_.” Henry’s hand reaches Alex’s hip, and Alex narrows his eyes mischievously. “It’s not all about you.”

Henry’s fingers tighten around Alex’s hip. “Don’t test me,” he whispers.

Biting his lip, Alex curls a strand of Henry’s hair around his finger.

“Hmm. Testing you’s kind of fun, though.”

Sliding one hand through Alex’s curls, Henry bites into the soft skin just below Alex’s ear, then grazes down his neck with his teeth. Alex lets out a small, contented sound and slips his jacket off, tossing it onto the nearest chair, and Henry pulls away again, taking a step back. Alex reaches out for him, and Henry places a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Unbutton your shirt for me.”

“Bossy,” Alex says with a smirk, obliging. Henry walks away, then returns with the flute of champagne from the table, and Alex stares at it, his chest rising in an inhale, deepening the dip of his collarbone.

“Don’t move,” Henry says, and Alex watches as Henry pours a tiny, lazy stream of champagne into the hollow between Alex’s neck and shoulder. Alex’s brow furrows in arousal as Henry slips his tongue against his skin to lick it, then properly drinks it up, not stopping after he’s done but instead sucking hard on the wet spot. Alex moans and tangles his fingers into Henry’s hair. When Henry rises, Alex pulls his head forward for a kiss, and Henry doesn’t hold back any longer, because he needs it, too, so badly. He holds Alex by the sides of his unbuttoned shirt, and Alex untucks and slips his hands under Henry’s, his fingers rubbing against Henry’s skin, messing with Henry’s head in the best way. Henry opens one, two buttons, then slips his own shirt off over his head.

Both their mouths are open against each other’s in a messy, satisfying rhythm of lip and tongue, and Alex pulls Henry in as close as he can by the hips, adding delicious friction between them. He rubs up hard against him and their mouths momentarily pause in a shared groan.

“What are we _doing_?” Alex whines.

“What do you want to do?” Henry asks, catching his breath.

“I…”

Holding the side of Alex’s head in his hand, Henry presses a quick kiss to Alex’s lips and lets their foreheads stay touching.

“What we did—” Alex starts, staring at parts of Henry’s face but not directly at him.

Henry grinds against Alex’s crotch again, and Alex cuts himself off with a moan.

“Yes, love?”

“What we did last time…” Alex looks Henry in the eyes and his voice takes on a tone of resolve. “I want to do it again.”

Henry can’t help the grin he breaks into. He pulls on Alex’s bottom lip with his teeth, then moves right up to his ear. “You want to bottom for me?”

“Yes, your royal fucking highness. I want you inside me,” he says with a look that sets Henry’s entire body on fire.

Henry is immensely pleased, but far from surprised. Alex kisses Henry with a vigor that almost tips him over, trying to take back control, but Henry promptly lifts Alex off the ground from beneath his thighs, rewarding him with the smallest startled gasp and Alex wrapping his legs around Henry’s waist. Henry brings Alex over to an empty spot on the beige and maroon carpet before laying him down gently on it. He helps Alex finally slip his shirt off, then drags his lips over Alex’s jaw and neck, making a path down to his belt, which he unbuckles and discards somewhere beside them. He breaks contact to reach for the bottle of lube in his jacket pocket—What can he say? He came prepared—and two plush cushions from the nearest couch. Cradling Alex’s head in his hand, he slips one under his head, the next going under his hips. Alex arches upward to allow it.

When Henry meets Alex’s eyes again, they’re watching him intently. It makes Henry’s cheeks hot.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks.

“Because,” Alex says. He wraps his arms around Henry and pulls him close. “You’re amazing.”

They stay like that for a moment, and Henry just breathes in the smell of Alex’s cologne, of Alex, and one danceable pop track fades into another two rooms down, and Henry revels in the fact that although this specific instance may be reckless and stupid, he’s allowed all of this.

Alex is startled and laughing when Henry finally slips his fingers under Alex’s waistband and pulls down, revealing Alex’s strikingly erect cock, and he kicks his shoes off to allow Henry to remove his clothing completely. Henry readies his fingers and teases at Alex’s entrance before slipping one in and simultaneously pressing a kiss to the underside of Alex’s dick. Alex’s head rolls back.

“Baby,” he breathes, barely making a sound.

Henry looks away, taking a deep breath, attempting to change the fact that he’s _overwhelmingly_ hard, but Alex does nothing to help when Henry adds a finger and is nosing at Alex’s balls and Alex drapes one leg around Henry and digs his own fingers into the short carpet under him, making a sound so loud Henry silently prays the White House doors are capable of muffling it.

He continues working Alex up. “Is it good?” he murmurs, looking up past Alex’s heaving chest to his flushed, open-mouthed expression.

“Good? It’s so— _more_.”

Henry gives him what he asks for, slowly, and Alex is impatient.

“Henry, I need you.”

Henry just hums between his thighs, not giving away what those words do to him and how much he’d like to hear Alex say them again.

“Now. I’m ready.”

Henry comes up the length of Alex’s body, still between his legs. “Are you sure about that?”

Alex pulls Henry in for a kiss, then pushes them both up until they’re standing on the carpet and leads Henry to the nearest wall. His back facing Henry, he bends over and braces himself against the wall with one hand. _Oh._ “Come here.”

And Henry does. He gives himself a moment to drink up the sight—Alex’s legs spread slightly, everything on full display, meeting his waist then tapering outward into his broad shoulders. He runs his hands along them and presses kisses into the nape of his neck, follows the path of soft, fine hair down his back, then takes a moment to get his own pants down to his ankles and slick himself up with lube. He works hard to contain himself when Alex turns his head not-so-subtly to watch him. They’re looking right at each other when Henry finally pushes in, and he gets to see Alex’s face change from that hot anticipation to… whatever that closed-eyed, unguarded, perfect, _perfect_ look he’s wearing is, and it’s _ecstasy_.

Henry starts to move, slowly at first, but Alex’s moaning and whining encourages him to pick up the pace, and every thrust is making an absolutely obscene sound, and it’s filling up Henry’s ears along with the thumping music coming through the walls, and the edge that Alex is pushing Henry to keeps coming up faster and faster.

Alex pushes his ass hard against Henry’s cock, suddenly. “Fuck!” Henry rasps as the tension shoots out of him and he comes, feeling almost lightheaded. His orgasm washes over him intensely before he pulls out. He wraps Alex in his arms and feels Alex’s terribly stiff cock push up against him.

“Fuck, that was amazing, that was so good,” Henry murmurs into Alex’s hair, all too familiar with the wonders praise works on his boyfriend. “You’re so good.” He runs his fingers through Alex’s soft, thick, curls, mussed up and slightly matted with sweat. He doesn’t know how long it’ll take him to recover from the still-new feeling of coming inside of Alex.

“You want to come?” Henry croons, barely a question. Alex just whimpers in agreement as Henry leads him over to the little table underneath the unforgettable Alexander Hamilton portrait.

The table is littered with small decorative objects, and Henry starts to delicately remove them from its surface and place them on the floor one by one. Alex huffs and pushes them off the table with one swipe of his arm. Henry laughs incredulously.

“You can’t keep doing that, love,” Henry says, pulling Alex close and kissing him.

“Says who?”

_Point conceded._

Henry helps Alex onto the table, then wastes no time dropping to his knees and getting his lips around Alex’s cock. Henry slots his thumb into the pretty crease where Alex’s thigh meets his waist, and it doesn’t take long before Alex is swearing in pleasure and guiding Henry’s head up and down the length of him. Henry hears the persistent music in the background stop as he works his tongue in motions that make Alex pull him closer with his legs.

“ _Ten! Nine!_ ”

The silence is broken by a booming chorus of guests, celebrities, strategic political invites, counting down to one, which is followed by roaring cheers that resonate through the White House walls.

A few seconds later, Henry feels Alex release into his mouth.

Alex looks down at Henry, they smile at each other, and Henry is taken by surprise when Alex launches himself off of the table and into Henry’s arms, pushing them both onto the carpet and inciting a string of giggles.

A while later they’re on the floor wrapped around each other still, Henry’s jacket draped over them, noting that they missed the countdown.

“We had a pretty exciting one of our own, now didn’t we?”

Alex just hums in agreement, at a rare and beautiful loss for words.

It takes Henry a minute to work up the courage to speak his next words. ”So, would you say you’re taking it to it?”

“Hmm?” Alex asks, tracing patterns into Henry’s back.

“Bottoming?”

“What can I say, new year, new me, right?”

“We all must learn and grow and whatnot?”

They both laugh.

“And what better way to start the new year than with a mind-blowing orgasm from _mi príncipe_?” Henry’s eyes nearly flutter shut of their own accord.

He smiles into Alex’s neck. “Would you like another one?”

Alex looks over his shoulder at the closed door and considers. “We need to get back to the party.”

“ _Says who?_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
